“Is it okay if I touch you?” His voice hovered above my head. He sounded like he was standing on a treetop. How tall was this man? “Just wanna make sure nothing is broken.” I am broken, Row. Permanently so. Even if my body is all healed. “Gently,” I croaked, feeling so pathetic I wanted to cry. “Of course.” Row placed his palm between my shoulder blades. It was warm, heavy, and reassuring. A hint of a tremble danced through his fingertips. It wasn’t too cold out, so it gave me pause. Maybe he was an alcoholic. That could also explain his mood swings. “You gonna stay there for long?” he
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